


Somewhere, the Wind Cries

by Poppelganger



Series: The Many Vanishings of Sanae Kochiya [1]
Category: Touhou Project, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Fantasy, Flowers, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Mystery, Romance, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1943055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppelganger/pseuds/Poppelganger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an urban legend told in Nagano about Sanae from Class 1-B, who vanished without a trace.  Like most things in folklore, there is a bit of truth to the rumor. </p><p>In which two people meet in a flower shop, and their budding romance is ruined by the fact that they are who they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghost Stories

**Author's Note:**

> I just recently found Diao ye zong's albums and wondered where they'd been all my life.
> 
> This story is set, for YuuYuu Hakusho, before the Dark Tournament, and for Touhou Project, after UFO.

**475: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _H_ _as anyone heard of Sanae from Class 1-B?_

**480: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _You’re  from Nagano, huh?  I hear that’s where that story got started_

**484: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Oh it’s a regional story?  So does that mean it really happened?!_

**486: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Uh, no, regional does not mean real_

**495: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Hello?  Is anyone going to tell the story or not?  Some of us aren’t from Nagano LOL_

**497: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _Sorry, sorry!_ 〜(￣▽￣〜)  
 _For those of you who haven’t heard, Sanae from Class 1-B was a high school girl from Nagano._  
 _She was really odd._  
 _She lived really far away from the city and spent a lot of time in the mountains._  
 _If you listened, you could hear her talking even when nobody was there._  
 _She talked to the wind and the rivers and animals sometimes, too, like snakes and frogs._  
 _Of course, this creeped out her classmates, so they bullied her a lot._

**499: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _She was probably just making it up for attention._

**500: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Didn’t she die, though…?_ (⌣_⌣”)

**501: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Died?!  I thought she just went missing!_ (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

**509: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _The ending is spoiled!  (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ_

**511: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Where’d the storyteller anon go, anyway?_

**519: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _I bet Sanae from Class 1-B got them_

**529: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _Once you’ve heard of her it’s already too late.  
We’re all next…_

**533: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _OMG anon cursed us and just took off?  Thanks a lot LOL_

**537: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** ヽ(￣д￣;)ノ=3=3=3

**542: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Come on, how does the story end?  Seriously the suspense is killing me LOL_

**546: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _It’s not even a good ending._

**547: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _Anon must have left, so I’ll finish for them._  
 _The bullies wanted to scare her, so they called her up to the roof._  
 _They must have forgotten to catch her after they pushed, because she fell._  
 _But when they looked down, there was nobody there._  
 _They say the wind spirited her away._  
 _Nobody has seen Sanae from Class 1-B since._  
 _She might be dead, she might be alive._  
 _She might be something else._

**552: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _I heard her bullies were found dead, with frogs and snakes crawling in their corpses._

**555: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** 工ｴｴｪｪ(;╹⌓╹)ｪｪｴｴ工

**559: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Whaaaaaat?  I didn’t hear that!!_

**562: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _I have.  They say she hunts bullies now. LOL_

**571: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Why frogs and snakes?_

**574: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _Is it more of a sad story, though?  
Even if she was just making it up, she died. _ ( p′︵‵。)

**559: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _Weren’t you listening?  
She didn’t die._

**562: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Spirited away=dead_

**567: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _No it doesn’t_

**571: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _Can we please not tell this story anymore?_  
 _Sanae was a real person from Nagano, and she really is missing._  
 _She was in my class._  
 _It’s disrespectful to treat her disappearance like a ghost story._

**574: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _LOL  right_

**576: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Proof?_

**580: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _But what if she really was real?_  
 _I mean maybe she didn’t talk to water or whatever, but she really went missing?_  
 _Anyone from Nagano who can corroborate?_  
 _Missing person posters or something?_

**606: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _From Nagano._  
 _There was a high school girl who went missing back before summer break._  
 _Don’t know her name, but they never found her._

**621: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Was she pushed off the roof?_

**622: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Did they find any corpses covered in snakes and things? LOL_

**629: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)  
** _Eeeeee!  Someone really went missing!_

**631: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _We can’t just take anon’s word for it.  
Any pictures?_

**641: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)** _  
I’m from Nagano, too, and I never heard about it_

**643: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _I’ve heard it!_  
 _But it was different._  
 _I think there are a lot of different versions of it…._

**648: Anonymous: 07/11(Fri)**  
 _But which one was the first one?_  
 _Guess we’ll never know._  
 _Sanae from Class 1-B!_  
 _Isn’t that the best kind of story?_  
 _She could have even been real._  
 _She could even be right behind you!_

*

It’s just not something the others understand, the girl thinks as she catches a bus in the outside world.

She’s okay with that, though.  There are some things that she doesn’t understand about her new friends, like why Marisa insists on stealing things that she could just ask to borrow, or why Youmu adamantly refuses to learn anything about the outside world, claiming “disinterest.”  This is her Thing That Others Do Not Understand, even though she always thought homesickness was universal.  Maybe it’s because she hasn’t left Japan and they think homesickness is only for those who travel overseas, but sometimes she just needs to slip through the boundary between worlds when no one’s looking and spend a few days elsewhere.

The bus pulls to a stop and she gets on, depositing her fare and finding an open seat in the back.  The outside world marches on, leaving Gensokyo far behind.  She always feels frozen in time when she comes back because everything changes but her.  She sees a year of fashion trends pass before her eyes, sees pop culture phenomenon reach the top of the charts only to fall into obscurity weeks later, sees the people around her go through life, from school to clubs to home.  She wonders what kind of life she would have had if she had stayed in this world of digital connections and modern heating.

The girl gets off somewhere downtown, the blue skirt of her old school uniform swishing around her legs, and shopkeepers smile at her because she looks like she belongs there.  It’s important to her.

Really, that’s what this is about—belonging.  But if her homesickness is not understood, she doubts the real answer will make any more sense.  She can picture Reimu’s face if she were to say it, the curious raising of one brow as she says, “But you _do_ belong here,” as if it should be obvious to everyone.  And the girl wishes it was, but even if it’s obvious to everyone else, it’s not obvious to her.  She’s never felt quite right, not in Gensokyo and not in the outside world, but these moments as she strolls down the sidewalks and nobody looks at her because she doesn’t seem out of place, this is as close as it gets.

It’s then that she feels it, and it stops her in her tracks and freezes her blood in her veins.  It’s crackling the air she breathes and wrapping around her body, almost suffocating, and she stops midstride to get her bearings.

She feels it—she feels the presence of a youkai.

The girl breaks into a sprint to follow the trail, all thoughts of belonging set aside because she has a duty to fulfill and people to protect, no matter what world it is.  There are times when she feels out of touch with the world she inhabits, or out of place compared to the people she’s with, but being a shrine maiden has always made sense.

She finds herself rushing past arcades and strip malls, but when she reaches a storefront display overrun with vines and flowering plants, she feels it at its strongest.  The canopy hanging over the door has “Happy Hana” printed in a curly, playful-looking font, but the feeling she gets in the doorway is foreboding.  She enters with caution, walking past rows of potted plants.

“Oh!” she hears someone gasp behind her, and turns to see a young woman wearing a dirt-covered apron, “A customer!  Can I help you find something?”

“No, I….” the girl glances around.  It’s here; she can feel it.  But she’s not sure where.  “I’m just looking.”

The woman’s smile falters.  “Oh,” she says again, disappointed, “Well, that’s alright.”  The girl wanders back towards the counter, and she slowly walks down the aisles.  Times like these make her wish she knew more about youkai.  She can feel its aura all around her, dark and oppressive, but she can’t figure out where it is.  In frustration, she returns to the counter.

“You have such a nice store,” she says, and the shopkeeper startles to attention, “Do you run it all by yourself?”

“Yes,” the woman replies with a proud smile, “It used to be my mother’s, but I was more than happy to take over.  It’s been here for a long time, so many people know it.”  She pauses.  “But…lately, it hasn’t been doing so well.  Customers stop by the window, but they never come in anymore.  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s me?”

The girl knows she can walk away.  It’s really not her problem, after all, because all the youkai has done is give the store an eerie feeling.  But she looks at the young woman standing behind the counter and sees the dreams in her eyes and the sad smile on her face, and she decides that she will make it her problem.  It’s been so long since she’s helped someone without any strings attached or expectations, a long time since she’s helped someone as just a regular girl rather than a hero. 

It’s about belonging again.  She hopes that’s okay.

“Are you looking for part time help?” she asks.

 “I’d love to hire you,” the shopkeeper says sadly, “But I can’t.  I just don’t have the money.”

“Then take me on a as volunteer instead,” she insists, hands on the counter.  The woman stares speechless.  “Please,” she says, “You told me about your store, and I really want to do whatever I can to help.”

“You’d really do that?”  The woman’s eyes are shining and she looks like she might cry.  The girl nods, and her eyes widen when the shopkeeper reaches across the counter to grab her hands.  “Thank you…thank you!” she says, “I promise, if I can turn my luck around, I’ll pay you back.  What’s your name?”

The girl is surprised that, with as much as she wants to belong, it feels kind of nice to be a stranger again.  In Gensokyo, everyone knows her name, but here, she’s just another girl, and she doesn’t mind so much.  “Kochiya, Sanae,” she introduces, “It’s nice to meet you.”


	2. Happy Hana

Sanae meets Shuuichi Minamino and proceeds to dump plant fertilizer all over him.

But hours before that, she’s waking up in the mountains on the floor of an ancient shrine.

The Hakurei Shrine is the kind of thing good ghost stories are made of, she’s always thought.  It’s old but well-kept, not existing entirely in one world or the other.  From time to time, the door slides open by itself and a spring breeze blows through the mountains, even in the winter.  If one were to peer inside, they might see a ripple in the air as the translucent figures of shrine maidens and youkai fade in and out of reality.

Of course, she laments, people don’t tell ghost stories like they used to.  Nobody believes in meeting on summer nights dressed in yukata, whispering eerie tales by candlelight as their shadows flicker on the walls around them.  It’s all virtual now, one isolated soul typing their lonely ghost story into message boards and blogs for each isolated individual of their audience. 

Stranger still, before leaving the outside world, she hadn’t once heard anyone mention the Hakurei Shrine.  She can’t tell if it’s because it’s just too isolated, or if people just aren’t interested.  All the stories people her age tell nowadays are about petty vengeance, ghosts coming back to punish cheating boyfriends.  It’s one of the things she likes better about Gensokyo.

Of course, the stories are alive and well there because the subject matter is fairly active.  It’s hard to ignore youkai when they’re visiting your shrine and eating stragglers who stray too far from the village.

Her first stop is the library, where a quick glance through a book on folklore narrows down the youkai that might be at work at Happy Hana.  No one has died yet, and all that’s manifested in the shop is a dark aura perceptible to normal humans as a creepy, haunting feeling, ruining the business.  There are still a lot of options.

A tanuki?  Sanae doesn’t think so.  Though they tend to be harmless tricksters, they’re very recognizable.  She’s sure she would have found it the other day.

An akaname?  Unlikely.  Sanae checked the bathroom.  Not only is it modern, but it’s also spotless.

She’s inspected the trees in front of and behind the shop for disembodied limbs and fruit resembling human faces.  She’s set up a purifying barrier to thwart deliberate, corrupting influences from vengeful spirits or amanojaku.   She’s tried just about everything, save going back to Gensokyo to ask Reimu for help, but she’s not going to do that.  She’s not going to say it’s a pride thing, but okay, it kind of is.  It’s about belonging, and being self-reliant and independent.  It’s about more and more things the longer she thinks about it.  She wonders if she needs a therapist.

Sanae heads for Happy Hana with a spring in her step, schoolbag swinging at her side, because having a job in the outside world gives her an excuse to stay there even longer.  She doesn’t plan on dragging this out longer than necessary, because she has responsibilities back in Gensokyo, but she wouldn’t mind if it took a few days longer.

The shopkeeper, Momoka, greets her when she comes in with a grateful smile and an apron, the name “Sanae” written in a cutesy, hiragana font on a nametag, and directs her to the backroom to deposit her school bag. 

“Thank you so much for coming,” Momoka says, sounding like she hadn’t been sure Sanae would show up, “I know it’s the weekend, and you’d probably rather be with your friends taking a break from school, so I really appreciate this.”  Sanae smiles and does not tell her that she doesn’t go to school anymore.  “Anyway, I managed to get another volunteer yesterday.  He came in not long after you did, actually….”

She’s not really listening, because she feels something strange again, something muted and filtered and distorted, but something close by nonetheless.  It feels like a youkai, and yet not, nothing like the presence she feels in the shop, and nothing like any youkai she’s encountered before.  It’s faint, hidden very carefully, like it’s stuffed in a jar on a back shelf somewhere.

“…between the three of us, everything should be fine.  And let me know when your exams are coming up so I can schedule you accordingly.  I remember what it was like to juggle a part-time job and studying for entrance exams.”

Sanae sets her school bag down in the back and ties the apron around her waist, making sure her nametag is visible.  She’s halfway back to the register, getting that strange feeling again, when she hears Momoka ask her to grab some plant fertilizer.  She hurries to the backroom again and stands on her tiptoes to get a sack off of the top shelf when she hears the front door jingle and Momoka greets someone with her usual enthusiasm.  When she comes back with the bag, the register counter comes into view, along with a redhead in a Meiou school uniform, but it’s not until he turns to notice her that her brain short-circuits.

His eyes are greener than the bamboo thickets of Eientei and a friendly smile is playing at his lips as he says, “hello,” and Sanae loses all of the dexterity and grace that she usually possesses.  The bag in her arms begins to slip, and she tries to catch it, and her fingers tear holes into the sides and grains of plant food and dirt spill all over the front of the boy’s uniform and shoes.

Nobody moves.

Sanae notices somewhere in the back of her mind that Momoka’s eyes are sliding cautiously from the boy’s shocked expression to her own horrified face, which is becoming paler by the second.  She’s really, really trying to say something—preferably an apology, but anything will do at this point—and she finally manages a shaky, “Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry,” as she clutches the half-empty bag to her chest.

The boy laughs very softly and she lets out the breath she was holding.  “It’s alright,” he says, “You can’t work in a flower shop without getting a bit of plant food on you from time to time.”

Sanae’s first impression of him is that he is a man with godlike patience and a smile with enough warmth to thaw a frozen lake.  The expression “head over heels” comes to mind, even though she’s always doubted that it was a real phenomenon.

She remembers that he said something and tries to come up with a reply.  “You’re volunteering here, too?” she asks lamely, and he nods. 

“Why don’t I grab a fresh bag?” he offers, disappearing into the back.

Sanae is still waving about half a minute after he’s gone before she even notices he’s not standing there anymore.  “I didn’t realize you could be so shy,” Momoka says with a knowing smile.  It would look stupid to argue, so Sanae doesn’t say anything, scooping some of the wasted fertilizer into her hand and sprinkling it around the nearest potted plant.  “He is cute, though, isn’t he?  I’ve seen him around town before, usually with a flock of girls with matching uniforms on his heels.  Minamino, Shuuichi, in case you were wondering.”  Momoka leers at her.  “And I know you were.”

When Shuuichi comes back with a new bag of plant food, he smiles, tells Sanae that he’ll sweep the floor, and hands it to her as she stands dumbfounded.  It’s disappointing, really, she thinks.  She knows she can’t like Shuuichi, or rather, she shouldn’t.  She’s in the outside world for business rather than pleasure, or so she continually tells herself, and once her job is done, she’ll have to catch up on her duties at the shrine.

Of course, this is much easier said than done.  Sanae has known Shuuichi for all of five minutes and her heart is already beating fast every time he looks at her and stammering when she answers his questions.  “I’ll get that for you,” he says when she has to strain to reach something, coming out of nowhere to retrieve the item.  “Here, let me help,” he offers when she has one too many plants in her arms.  She doesn’t know where he came from, but she’s so disappointed that she didn’t meet him before leaving her normal life behind.  She would’ve loved to have had handsome, nice boyfriend.  She would’ve loved to have met him earlier.

Shuuichi smiles at her warmly, and she smiles back.

 _You’re too late,_ she thinks sadly, and gets back to work.

*

It’s not something that she’ll ever admit to Reimu or the others, but Sanae is not good with boys.  Sure, she can prevent calamity and cause miracles and single-handedly defeat rogue spirits, but talking to boys is another thing altogether, a thing that she’s never had any skill with, even before she left Gensokyo.  _Especially_ before she left Gensokyo, actually, not that it makes a difference.

So when Momoka tells them to take a break for lunch and Shuuichi invites her to sit with him at the park nearby, her face goes red and if she was holding something, she would have dropped it.  “Oh.  Um, sure,” she says, “I, um, I’d love to.  I-I mean I’d really like to!  A lot.”  Minus five points for stuttering.  Shuuichi pretends not to notice.

Sanae is meekly staring down at her bento box, keeping her eyes carefully away from Shuuichi’s face until he asks, “So what brought you to Happy Hana?”

“Oh, I just,” she fumbles with her chopsticks and drops the rice she was holding, “You know.  I just.  Wanted to do something helpful.  I guess.”

“That’s kind of you,” Shuuichi says with a gentle smile.  Sanae is only vaguely aware that there are other people in the world around them, passing by with soft giggles and mutters of, “Oh, how cute!”

“What, uh, what about you?” Sanae asks.  Keeping up the conversation, that gets a point.

“I like plants,” he says, “My mother is fond of flowers, and she keeps an impressive garden, so I’ve learned a thing or two from her.  It probably doesn’t seem like the most masculine hobby.”

“No!” Sanae almost jumps up from the bench to disagree, “I mean, who cares?  You can like whatever you want, you know?  You can like flowers.  Um, if you want.”  He laughs.  She blushes and looks at her food again.  “I like flowers, too.”

“Really?”  At this, Shuuichi sounds interested.  “Do you have a favorite?”

Sanae shouldn’t be looking into this question as much as she is.  She tries to just answer, but she has to think about it a little bit.  What kind of flowers _does_ she like?  There’s such a nice variety in Gensokyo.  “I like white clovers,” she says, “What about you?”  Lost the stammering, bonus points.

There’s something about Shuuichi other than his pretty face, something that’s just a little unusual, and Sanae can’t quite put her finger on it.  But when he chuckles under his breath and smiles without really looking at her, his expression thoughtful, she kind of forgets about it.

“I prefer roses myself,” he says softly, and Sanae can only think, _Well, of course you do._ She has yet to find anything about him to dislike, and is starting to wonder if she ever will.

*

They’re headed back to the shop when Sanae feels the youkai’s presence flare up in the distance, and she flinches at the sensation.  Shuuichi stops a few steps ahead of her and looks back in confusion.  “Are you alright?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“Fine, sorry, I just….”  She starts walking again, a little faster, “Remembered something I have to do later today.”

Momoka welcomes them back and Sanae tries to discreetly investigate all corners of the shop again while the creature is active, but can’t seem to detach herself from Shuuichi, who is always within earshot.  She’s sure she wouldn’t mind the company normally, but it’s hard to keep from looking suspicious, poking around behind the shelves and between the pots.

Before she can come up with a good excuse, the feeling is gone and the youkai is hidden again.  Sanae frowns to herself; in its place, she can feel something else again, a dull, throbbing energy like a heartbeat all around her.  It’s not quite a barrier, but it feels similar, something stretching to all corners of the shop, warm and protective.  Almost like a pleasant scent mingling with the blooming flowers.

A pleasant scent.  Sanae’s eyes narrow.  It’s tugging at the back of her mind now; she knows this scent, or something like it.  But where…?

“Sanae?”

She turns around to find Shuuichi and Momoka staring at her with concern from the register.  “Sorry, what?” she asks sheepishly.

“I was just asking if you wouldn’t mind taking over the register for a minute.  I have to step out, but I’ll be right back.”  Momoka raises a brow.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sanae insists, rushing to get her apron back on and taking up a spot at the counter.  “I got it,” she reassures Momoka, who doesn’t look convinced, but hesitantly nods and heads for the door.  She tells herself she has to be more careful.  In Gensokyo, all of her friends can sense youkai, so everyone understands if she’s momentarily overpowered by a strange or frightening aura.

Here, in the outside world, it’s a painful reminder of another way she doesn’t belong.


	3. Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to MaRuX!

**275: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _So I asked about this on another site_  
Didn’t have much luck  
Anybody hear about Sanae from Class 1-B?  
Not the story, but the real person?

**284: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Oh my god please do not start that here_

**291: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _There is no real person_  
Sanae from Class 1-B is just a story  
Move along

 **299: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Hey hey_  
Hold on  
Don’t be so quick to dismiss anon  
The story’s from Nagano, some people there say it’s real

**307: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Based on…?_

**333: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Any information at all would be helpful thanks_

**358: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Why are you asking?  
You think you found her or something? LOL_

**365: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _She’s been “found” before_  
Someone saw her once in Nagano again after she disappeared  
But after that she was gone again  
…supposedly

 **375: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Yeah they’d just stopped looking for her and then someone said they saw her_  
Still in her school uniform months later  
Kind of weird

**409: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _A ghost?_

**442: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** (／。＼) ****  


**505: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _People are saying she probably ran away_

**520: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Ran away?_

**525: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _She had to have been on the news, right?_  
Do you remember her name?  
Was it actually Sanae?

 **558: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Hm you know what?_  
I don’t remember  
Weird  
It was a big deal when it happened

 **656: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _I’m from Nagano_  
Yes she was on the news around February or March  
Can’t remember her name though  
Or her face  
Hm wasn’t even that long ago  
Maybe I’m getting old LOL

 **702: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _No wait_  
I’m sure I saw that broadcast  
I can’t remember either

**709: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Nobody can remember?  
…conspiracy???_

**714: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Sanae from Class 1-B didn’t vanish_  
She got abducted by aliens!  
…or something, right? LOL

**721: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Thanks anyway_

**723: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Wait why were you asking?_  
Did you find her?  
Her parents are probably worried  
She wasn’t that old

**758: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Come on anon don’t leave us hanging like that_

**771: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Sorry_  
No I didn’t find her  
Just wondered if someone else ever did

**775: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _Sanae from Class 1-B  
Probably isn’t coming back_

**779: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _Don’t say that!_

**780: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _There’s still a chance  
People have been gone longer and still been found alive_

**781: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _I’m just saying_  
I mean can anyone even remember her real name?  
Or her real face?  
If she came back, would anyone even recognize her?  
She’s as good as gone already

**784: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)  
** _I’m sure her parents remember_

**787: Anonymous: 07/20(Sun)**  
 _No_  
They don’t  
Nobody does

_*_

At a glance, Reimu Hakurei seems like the perfect Japanese girl.  She is beautiful, carries herself with grace and performs her duties at the shrine with a sort of practiced elegance that Sanae has yet to master.  Once, during a festival, she came to see Reimu perform a Kagura dance.  She hadn’t expected it to be very impressive—all of the ones she’d seen in the outside world had been performed with multiple girls, after all.  But somehow, that solo performance left her almost breathless.

The shrine maiden had worn a white ceremonial robe with a deep blue pattern dyed at the bottom.  When she spun, the ribbons in her hair twirled gently with her, and with each shake of the bells in her hands, Sanae felt an evil spirit depart from the crowd and pass on.  It was effortless for her.  Sanae would be lying if she said she wasn’t envious.

It’s no secret that this fair-skinned, dark-haired stunning shrine maiden with a small, mischievous smile has quite a few admirers in the human village, though her shrine still doesn’t get many visitors.  They choose to admire her from afar, in part because there are usually more youkai present than any normal human feels comfortable sharing space with, and in part because once Reimu opens her mouth, the illusion of Yamato Nadeshiko is shattered.

“Where have you been?” Reimu demands the moment Sanae takes her first step back into Gensokyo in days.  It might have been foolish for her to think she could sneak through the Hakurei Shrine without its shrine maiden noticing.  “Everyone has come here trying to find you, like I’m supposed to know where you are all the time.”

Sanae laughs.  Reimu sounds apathetic with just a hint of annoyance, which means she was worried.  The truth is that Sanae only started to think about herself as a “shrine maiden” after meeting Reimu, because she knows that’s not what she is.  And while “wind priestess” may hold more grandiosity and power than “shrine maiden,” she thinks the latter sounds much more approachable.  The kind of person you might talk to rather than talk at. “I’m sorry for causing trouble,” she says with a smile.

“But where were you?” Reimu presses, curious now at Sanae’s careful avoidance, “Did you go outside the barrier again?”  She whispers the words like a taboo.  They’re not; Sanae has never understood why Reimu of all people treats it that way.  She knows better than most how the barrier works and the purpose for which it exists, and has no reason to fear it. 

“Yes,” Sanae says, “I found a youkai.”

“A youkai?  In the outside world?”  Reimu purses her lips thoughtfully.  “That’s unusual.”

“It happens,” she shrugs, “I’ll take care of it.”

“You should be careful.  I’ve heard things from Yukari about youkai outside.  Sometimes they’re really different from what we have here.  They might even come from somewhere else altogether.”

“Reimu,” Sanae says firmly, looking into her friend’s eyes, “I know.  I can handle it.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Reimu says, holding her gaze.

Sanae is the first one to look away.  If she were Reimu, she probably would have found the youkai already, she thinks glumly.

“Tell me,” the other shrine maiden asks, “Why you keep going there.”

The words _you wouldn’t understand_  cross Sanae’s mind, but she doesn’t say them.  Reimu hears them all the same.

“You belong here.”

“I know,” Sanae says, if only to make her stop.  She turns right back around and starts walking back to the outside world.  Reimu calls to her once.  Sanae knows she wouldn’t dare follow her. 

Sanae has a lot in common with the Hakurei Shrine, she thinks, as she feels the air shift around her and she leaves Gensokyo again, Reimu’s voice little more than a ringing in her ears.  She’s straddling the boundary between worlds, not quite a part of one or the other, neither world able to fully claim her.  It means freedom, she knows.  It takes beings far stronger than her to achieve the strength and stability to travel freely.  It also means that she’s still chasing that sense of belonging, always reaching out but never quite touching it.  It would be easier if she were a resident of one world and one only, and could make an easy decision.

It’s just another thing that she envies about Reimu.

*

The flowers start dying.

Momoka is practically in shock when Sanae sees her, leaning over the counter with her head in her hands.  Not only have they not made a single sale in almost a week, but now the blossoms are starting to turn brown and the stems are wilting.  They’ve tried just about every kind of plant food and have made sure to rotate plants regularly to get light and water, but nothing seems to be working.  Even Shuuichi’s kind smile isn’t enough to brighten Sanae’s day, between Reimu exacerbating her insecurities and the youkai still on the loose somewhere in the shop, and she tells herself that enough is enough.

Sanae made a promise to herself when she started volunteering that she would save Momoka’s shop, and that is exactly what she intends to do.  So once their shifts are over and Shuuichi is getting ready to go, Sanae lingers in the backroom and locks the door, dumping her supplies out of her school bag and takes a deep breath to focus.  Pacing slowly around the room, holding out her gohei, she offers a silent prayer to her gods. 

“I need,” she murmurs, kneeling beside the latest shipment of fertilizer, “To save these flowers.” 

She can feel the hidden energy of the youkai clashing with her prayer, but she closes her eyes and spreads her power.  She can feel sweat running down her neck and the oppressive aura of the youkai trying to smother her.

But suddenly, the struggle lessens.  Something tugs on her prayer, lifting it through the fog and into the sky, and her grip on her gohei loosens as that familiar scent wraps around her.  She feels safe, but she knows she’s really not, because she’s now certain of it;

There are _two_ youkai in the flower shop.

The first one, whose presence led her there in the first place, is something weak but nevertheless pervasive, noticeable even by normal humans as a chill in the air.  The second one might not be a permanent resident, but it’s made itself known, almost as if it’s….

Claiming territory?  The thought makes Sanae shiver.  It’s not the kind of thing lesser youkai are capable of doing very easily.  But this second youkai has left its scent all over the shop like an animal, possibly to dissuade the first one from staying.  Sanae worries, though, because not only does she now have one more youkai to deal with than before, but this second one doesn’t seem to be a pushover.

She is not going to ask Reimu for help.  She’s not even going to think about it.  She said she would handle it, and that’s exactly what she’s going to do.  As she puts her gohei back in her bag and brushes the dirt off of her knees, she resolves to finish the job.  She is going to track these youkai down and she is going to get rid of them, because that’s what she does, what she’s good at.  “Youkai exterminator” is part of her job description in Gensokyo, and that certainly extends to the outside world when it needs to. 

“Sanae?”

She almost jumps out of her skin at the sound of Shuuichi’s voice, so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn’t notice him come into the back.  She hurriedly straightens her posture and greets him, school bag clenched to her chest.  “You’re still here,” he says, sounding amused, “Miss Momoka said she thought you came back here.”

“Ah, yeah,” she says, “Just…checking on supplies.” 

If he thinks she’s lying, he doesn’t say as much.  “Just as well.  Did you want me to walk you home?”

“Oh, no.  That’s okay.” 

Sanae is really surprised that he doesn’t frown when she says it.  It’s probably the fourth time he’s asked, and the fourth time she’s turned him down.  She’s thought about offering an excuse—or even an explanation; she’s been sleeping at the Hakurei Shrine on the “outside world” side, which is most certainly not a casual stroll away—but never quite does.  “Thank you, though,” she adds as they walk to the shop’s front door together.

She’s not ready for the literal mob of school girls waiting for them just outside.  Shuuichi freezes and takes an almost reflexive step back towards the store, putting himself between the mob and Sanae. 

“I _told_ you he works here!” one of them shouts.

“But it’s so creepy,” another murmurs, and Sanae takes offense to that.

“It’s not creepy,” she tells the one who dared to say it, “It’s a perfectly good shop.”  The girls are taken aback by her sharp tone.  A memory flickers in her mind’s eye—raised voices, taunting and teasing, _freak, you freak!_ —and she backs down, trying to hide herself behind Shuuichi and away from their prying eyes.

“Excuse me,” Momoka says, mercifully coming out to run interference, “You can’t all stand here.  You’re blocking the street.”

The crowd doesn’t disperse, but merely shifts.  Sanae’s only warning that something is about to happen is a sharp turn of Shuuichi’s head before he grabs her by the hand, murmurs, “This way,” and then they’re running down the alley behind the shop with half of the girls from his school on their heels.

*

Sanae hasn’t done any long-distance running in a while.  She’s not usually in any hurry in Gensokyo.   As the type who takes hours to prepare spells to bring about miracles, most things are slow processes for her rather than spur of the moment motions.  She’s reminded, as she zigzags through the narrow downtown streets with Shuuichi’s fingers wrapped tightly around hers, that it’s really kind of fun.  She can feel the wind kissing her neck as her hair flares up behind her.  She can feel the breeze tickling the backs of her legs and tossing her skirt around.  The world passes her in a blur and she’s really, truly having fun.

They don’t stop until they can’t even hear the girls’ voices anymore.  Shuuichi finally lets go of her hand somewhere on a residential street, and Sanae leans against a utility pole as she catches her breath, laughing.  He must be used to it—he’s not even panting.

“Are you alright?” he asks, not smiling for once but looking genuinely concerned, “I’m sorry about that.  I’m afraid I have a few admirers at school….”

“A few?” Sanae echoes but laughs breathlessly afterwards.  The smile returns to his lips.  “Well, now they know where you work.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Maybe we should tell them they can only visit you if they buy something.”

They share a laugh at that.  Sanae doesn’t know where she’s going when she starts following him.  They could be going to his house.  She’s probably a good ten minutes from the bus station.  She doesn’t really care.

“Do you go to school in town?” Shuuichi asks and she hesitates before answering.

“Ah.  Not exactly.”  She knows, from previous ventures outside, that she has to be careful about lying.  At the very least, she has to keep her story consistent or her stay becomes significantly shorter.  “I used to, but starting next spring, I’m going to be homeschooled.  I live really far away, and it’s kind of lonely, so I like to come to town when I can.” 

Shuuichi is silent for a moment, and she can’t quite tell what he’s thinking.  “I see,” he says at last.  There’s a short pause.  “I go to Meiou,” he offers, and she nods. 

“I’ve heard of it,” she says, “It’s a really good school.  You must be pretty bright to have gotten in.”

He modestly denies it.  She’s really not sure what else she was expecting.

“I’m worried about the shop,” she admits softly, “I know Miss Momoka is, too.  I can’t figure out what we’re doing wrong.  No customers are coming, the flowers aren’t growing; it doesn’t look good.”

“You have faith in it, though,” Shuuichi says, “Earlier, you defended it, right?”

She blushes in embarrassment.

“That’s good,” he smiles, “We have to believe we can help before we really make a difference.”

“I’m not really very good with plants,” Sanae says, “I like them, but I don’t have a green thumb or anything.”

“It’s not difficult,” Shuuichi tells her, “Why don’t we try growing something in the shop together?  I’m sure Miss Momoka wouldn’t mind.”

Sanae can feel the heat in her face when she looks up at his warm smile.  “Really?  What should we grow?”

He doesn’t even hesitate to answer.  “How about a white clover?”

Sanae has searched Shuuichi’s face for any hint of insincerity or deceit since she met him, and she has come to the conclusion that he is as close to perfection as any living thing can possibly be.  Even if she’s reading into their closeness and his smiles completely wrong, he would have been a good friend, she thinks.  He would have been a great friend, really.  Sanae would have loved to get to know him. 

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Shuuichi’s smile falls and he points it out.  Sanae is fumbling trying to wipe them away when he hands her a handkerchief and she only cries more, starts sobbing right there in the middle of the street.

She hates it.

She hates being like this, being between worlds at all times, rootless and drifting.  She knows she is a shrine maiden.  She is a shrine maiden down to her blood, down to her soul, and the world she’s in doesn’t change that.  But beneath that, she is Sanae, Sanae who could talk to the wind, Sanae who loves both frogs and snakes, Sanae who likes mysteries and strange things, just Sanae, a girl who never asked to be anything more than a normal person but got it anyway.

Shuuichi doesn’t know any of this, so he can’t possibly understand it.  But somehow—the way he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his chest—it almost feels like he does.


	4. Miracles

The entire store is buzzing with positive, healing energy the next time Sanae comes in.  Momoka is overjoyed, dancing around the shop, and is more than happy to provide Sanae with a white clover seed, a pot to use, and even clears off a spot on the windowsill. 

“Can you believe it?” Momoka sighs, wiping tears of joy from her eyes, “I came in today, and everything was beautiful!  All of the plants were green and healthy, not a single one looks sickly!  I even had a whole bunch of customers earlier.  Thank you so much for everything you’ve done!”

Sanae smiles to herself as she buries the seed in the moist, potted soil and sets it in the sunlight.  “I didn’t do anything.  You’ve been working so hard, I’m sure the plants wanted to do well for you.”

“You’re like my good luck charms!” Momoka goes on, and Sanae doesn’t stop her, a happy warmth blooming in her chest.  Moments like these make her job worthwhile.  With the plants protected by her prayer, all that’s left is for Sanae to track down the youkai.  Momoka’s shop will be saved, customers will come in droves, and then….

And then she’ll have no reason to stay any longer.

She tries to focus on the positives.

“Hello, Shuuichi!” Momoka greets from the counter, and the boy pauses in the doorway, his expression that of complete shock and awe.

“Incredible,” he murmurs, coming into the store and walking down an aisle of plants in full-bloom.  Sanae steals a glance out of the corner of her eye and can’t help but think of how natural he looks there.  It’s kind of ridiculous how graceful Shuuichi is, almost rivaling Reimu, she thinks.  He shares a smile with Sanae before they both get their aprons on and begin restocking the shelves.

“I planted a white clover,” she says, almost proudly, and Shuuichi beams.

“Did you?  Where is it?”

“Over there,” she gestures towards the window closest to the register.  “I’ve never actually grown anything from scratch like this before.  It’s kind of exciting.  I hope it turns out okay.”

“I’m sure it will,” he insists. 

The other day, when Sanae collapsed in tears, Shuuichi never asked her what she was crying about, and she’d never told him.  They’d silently agreed not to bring it up, no matter how curious or concerned his eyes were as he walked her back downtown to the bus stop.

“Here come customers!” Momoka says, hurrying around to the register, “Ah.  When was the last time I said that?”  She coughs.

Sanae looks at her.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Momoka smiles, covering her mouth when she does it again.  “Sorry.  Must’ve caught a cold.  I’ll wear a mask tomorrow.”

“It’s okay,” Sanae says, but inwardly, she’s thinking that it’s anything but.  She doubts it’s a coincidence; she can feel a dark presence like a fog clinging to the shopkeeper.  Whatever was killing the plants has now latched onto Momoka instead, and Sanae doesn’t know how much time she has left.  The flowers all wilted very quickly, and she suspects that Momoka will continue to get worse.

Shuuichi welcomes a customer and helps them find something.  Another one comes in to make an order.  Sanae runs through her mental checklist.

No ghosts; she’s checked and double-checked already.  It’s presence isn’t as loud or overbearing as an inugami, but is nonetheless stifling.  The plants themselves aren’t infested with anything.  She’s checked the ceiling for any sign of a tenjou-kudari, but there weren’t any of those, either.  The list has gotten much shorter, and really, she’s running out of youkai. 

“Sanae, could you grab me some more bags?” Momoka calls, and she hurries to comply with the request, rushing to the backroom.  Every time she goes in, she thinks it would be the perfect hiding spot for a youkai, but she’s there so frequently and has done so many purification rituals and miracle preparations back there that she can’t imagine it could still be there.  She comes back out with the bags and Momoka gratefully takes them.

There’s a commotion at the front door when a couple of loud-mouthed boys come through, and then somebody yells, “Hey, Kurama!”  Out of the corner of her eye, Sanae sees Shuuichi flinch, attention torn from the customer he was assisting.  “Kurama,” she hears again, and the boys approach him.  When Sanae thinks of the word “delinquent,” these are the kinds of people she pictures.  Their school uniforms are disheveled, one with his hair gelled back and the other with a pompadour, and neither of them seem to know what an inside voice is, or how to use one.

Shuuichi hurriedly helps the customer before they’re in arm’s reach, and Sanae watches the exchange closely. 

“Hey, Kurama, when did you start working at a flower shop?” the taller and rougher of the two asks.  Shuuichi says something too softly for her to catch and a look of realization crosses his face.  “Oh…sorry.”

“Recently,” Shuuichi says audibly, “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now.”

“Hey, it’s fine, we understand,” the other one says with a shrug.  He catches Sanae’s eye and she hurriedly looks away and pretends to be busy.  “Finally settle down with a girlfriend?”

“Coworker,” Shuuichi corrects stiffly.  Sanae pretends she’s not listening.  And that she’s not disappointed.  “Did you just come by to say hello, or is this business?”

“Nah, just thought we’d visit.  Haven’t seen you in a while.”  He leans in and lowers his voice.  “Feels weird in here, man.  A whole lot of energy from a bunch of different places.”

“I know.  That’s why I’m here.”

Sanae pauses.  She hadn’t realized that Shuuichi could sense it, too, or these punks, for that matter.  It wasn’t completely uncommon for ordinary humans to possess a bit of spiritual sensitivity, though she hadn’t been expecting to find any.

She’d have to be even _more_ careful.

By the time she’s come out of her thoughts, the two boys are waving from the doorway and disappearing down the street, and Shuuichi comes over to her.  “Sorry if you heard any of that,” he says tiredly, though he’s still smiling.  “Old friends.  We haven’t talked in some time.”

“I understand,” Sanae says.  And she does; she doesn’t have any friends who are delinquents, though Marisa is awfully close.  She certainly talks like one.

Sanae barely has time to breathe before half of Meiou’s female population comes streaming through the door, and puts herself at a safe distance from Shuuichi to avoid the stampede.  He doesn’t look any happier than she does to see them, but Sanae doesn’t see any reason to waste the opportunity. 

“You know,” she tells the girl closest to her, “If you want to be noticed, I bet a confession with flowers would work well.”

“You think so?” the girl asks, and Sanae nods.  She’s certainly getting bolder, she thinks to herself.

“Of course.  Do you know the language of flowers?  You could pick something meaningful.”

Several other girls within earshot hear the exchange and tear away from the group, following Sanae around the store like ducklings as she shows them some of the more popular flowers before making their choices.  Sanae thinks she deserves a promotion.

“Red tulips are a declaration of love,” she says, “Lilacs mean first love.  And, of course, roses are the traditional choice.”

She remembers sitting at Reimu’s kotatsu with Marisa and Youmu, when the other shrine maiden suddenly admitted that she knew the language of flowers.  “What?” Marisa had exclaimed, followed by raucous laughter, “Seriously?  Wow, I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

“The language of flowers isn’t always about romance,” she’d insisted, but she was blushing in embarrassment. 

“Well, tell us a few,” Youmu had urged, and so she had.

Sanae is determined to be like Reimu the same way overeager younger siblings strive to be like their elders, but it’s a deep, dark secret.  So what if she’s been studying up on it since Reimu first told them?  Nobody has to know.

The entire crowd is dispersed this way, though Sanae knows that Shuuichi will probably have more flowers and confessions than he knows what to do with tomorrow.  She’s about to tease him about it when she’s practically paralyzed in shock—she feels the youkai on the move.  Shuuichi is left looking expectant as she turns on her heel and runs to the back corner of the shop furthest from the window the potted clover rests on, peering through foliage and around shelves.

It’s close.  It’s so close.  She sees movement out of the corner of her eye, something darting into the backroom, and gives chase, dashing after it.  She’s in the doorway, staring at a dark, mangy mass of fur and two little, pathetic eyes but its form flickers and fades and then it’s gone again.

She wants to scream.  She almost _had it!!_

But she calms down because she knows she has a bit more research to do, because to be perfectly honest, she has absolutely no idea what the hell that thing was.

She hears cautious footsteps behind her and looks over her shoulder at Shuuichi, whose expression has changed from shock to something else.  “Sorry,” she chokes, completely unprepared and lacking a good excuse, “I thought…I thought I saw a mouse.”

She sees it then; his eyes narrow ever so slightly and they glint dangerously.  He doesn’t believe her.

“Oh,” he says.  He smiles, but it looks forced now.  “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she says again.  She tries to get around him, but he doesn’t move.

“What did it look like?” he asks, voice low.

Shuuichi Minamino is not a scary person.  “Scary” is probably the absolute last word Sanae would ever use to describe him.  But there’s just something about his eyes now and the look on his face, and Sanae can’t say exactly what it is, but it’s not what she ever thought she would see there.  It’s a lot older than him, or her, old enough that she realizes she’s not going to be able to sneak past him as she has others.  Somehow, this is not the same Shuuichi she was talking to earlier about white clovers.

 “It looked,” she pauses, struggling to keep her breathing even under his scrutiny, “Like a mouse.”

Shuuichi smiles again and it’s lacking in the warmth it held before.  He finally steps out of the way, and she scurries past him. 

They don’t make eye contact again for the rest of the day.


	5. Obligation

**809: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_So I’ve been looking into this Sanae from Class 1-B thing_   
_Everyone was talking about a news report_   
_But I couldn’t find anything like that_

**825: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _No I’m positive I remember seeing a poster for a missing girl_

**832: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_Anon’s right  
I remember, too, but I didn’t find anything either_

**838: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_Doesn’t anyone have anything?_   
_A name?_   
_A description?_   
_Someone has to know_   
_What about her parents?_

**845: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _Can’t find a name_

**851: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _What school did she go to?_

**854: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _This doesn’t make any sense_

**871: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_Everyone_   
_I posted here a few weeks ago_   
_Sanae was my classmate_   
_I can’t tell you what school, but that’s her real name_   
_It’s the same, even in Nagano_   
_Nobody talks about her anymore_   
_I think I’m the only one who remembers her at all_

**875: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _What do you mean?_

**876: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _Can you tell us anything else?_

**887: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_Sanae is gone_   
_She’s gone because nobody remembers her_   
_I don’t know if she did it or someone else did_   
_Every trace of her is gone_   
_She’s been erased completely_

**889: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _How come you remember then?_

**896: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_You can’t be serious  
Are you saying it’s some kind of government cover-up?_

**916: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _Kind of sounds like one_

**917: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _Were you friends with her?_

**921: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_What, did they visit everyone in Nagano and erase their memory?_   
_A lot of people have heard the story about Sanae from Class 1-B_   
_So she’s obviously not completely forgotten_

**929: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _Is the story true?_

**931: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)  
** _Anon?_

**951: Anonymous: 07/20(Thurs)**   
_I don’t know what happened or how_   
_The story about her was started by some of our classmates_   
_I think they might still remember, somewhere in the back of their minds_   
_I probably remember because I can’t stop thinking about her_   
_I was the last person to see her_   
_I pushed her off the roof_

*

Momoka’s cough becomes the flu.  The flower shop is closed the next day, with a note on the door apologizing to Sanae if she should happen to come by.  It’s really not Momoka’s fault; Sanae would have loved to give her a phone number almost as much as she would have loved to actually have a cell phone.

When she goes back across the boundary, she doesn’t see Reimu.  She doesn’t think about it too hard, having dreaded another confrontation where she has to explain herself.  Sanae steps up into the shrine, slides the screen door shut behind her and pulls at the ribbon of her school uniform.  As her clothes from the outside world pool around her ankles, Sanae covers herself in the blue and white cloth of Gensokyo, the robes of a wind priestess.  She knows they’re only clothes, but they make her feel different; powerful and dignified.  Maybe a little unapproachable.

When she steps out of the shrine, she leaves the girl who wears a school uniform behind and starts walking.  The people in the human village call out to her with smiles.  _Miss Sanae, Miss Sanae!  Thank you for your blessing, Miss Sanae.  Thank you for your miracles, Miss Sanae._ Everyone knows her name, and she knows most of theirs.  Many of them frequent the shrine, after all, and have asked her for favors.  She is not just a girl to these people; she is a hero, a beacon of hope, a bringer of peace.

A deified human.

Kanako is waiting for her on the trail back to Moriya Shrine, tall and imposing, arms crossed over her chest as she watches Sanae draw closer.  “You’ve been gone a while,” she says.

Sanae nods.  Kanako already knows.  As her god, she has always known.  She knows when Sanae is suffering, when she is weak, when she is unable to do her duty.  It’s the worst thing about being close to a god.

“There are people waiting for you.”  Sanae nods again and follows her up the stone steps to the shrine.  She can hear the crowd already, impatient murmuring and shifting in the distance.  “I heard you found a youkai out there.”

“I did.  I’m not sure what it is yet.”

Kanako makes a sound of assent.  “Gensokyo is simple compared to the outside world.”

“What do you mean?”

Their pace slows.  “It’s probably not something I should tell you,” Kanako says with a mysterious smile, “But I think you’ll need to know one day.”

From the top of the steps, Sanae can see the assembled humans waiting to receive her blessings.  When they notice her, their voices become as one as they call her name in reverence.  Kanako is the god of the shrine, but to these people, it is Sanae who will fulfill their desires, and she temporarily ascends to godhood herself.

_O Sanae, please bring me prosperity.  Please help my crops grow.  Please cure my father’s sickness._

“I’m here,” she tells them, and they hang on her every word.

*

Sanae is exhausted by sunset when she has heard everyone’s prayers and responded with miracles, and slumps on the shrine steps, wiping her forehead with her sleeve.  Kanako approaches from behind and comes to sit beside her, and they look out at the setting sun on the horizon. 

“I met a boy,” Sanae says softly.

Kanako says nothing.

“He’s good-looking and nice.  I think, if I had never come to Gensokyo, I would have confessed to him by now.”  She thinks about his eyes, how they can change so easily from calm and tranquil to stormy and distrustful.  “But I think he’s onto me.  He knows I’m not normal.  I probably shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You have a peculiar energy,” Kanako offers, still not looking at her, “Even those with only a bit of spiritual awareness would probably notice that something is off about you.”

Sanae draws her knees up to her chin.  “What do you think I would be doing if I were just a regular girl?”

“You would go to school.”  The god beside her leans back, smirking.  “You would live a perfectly ordinary life.  You would find people you like, and go out with them.  Maybe you’d even get married and have children.”  Kanako’s eyes narrow as she glances down at Sanae.  “And then, someday, you’d grow old and die.”

“It’s not like that’s not going to happen anyway,” Sanae murmurs, but looks up curiously when Kanako doesn’t answer, the god’s gaze again turned towards the red sky.

“You will die, Sanae,” she says, “I know you will; I can see it.  But it won’t be the way you think.”

Sanae stares up, fearful.  “I don’t have any idea how I’ll die.”

“That’s not what I meant.”  Kanako stands from the steps.  “You’re going back to the outside world again, right?  Be careful.  Something is coming.”

“What’s coming?”

Predictably, her god refuses to answer.

*

Momoka recovers and returns to the shop after another day, and Sanae protects her with a blessing immediately.  She becomes distracted and starts making mistakes, forgetting where to find things and neglecting customers, because she has a lot on her mind, like the youkai and her lack of self-confidence.

She’s sure the only reason Momoka hasn’t fired her yet is because she’d feel guilty for doing so.

The youkai’s influence on the store has worn into her protective barrier, and she’s had to repeat blessings every other day.  The toll is apparently obvious; Momoka has commented that she looks pale at least twice.

Shuuich comes in to work late for the first time, looking a little tired.  "I'm so sorry," he tells Momoka, who waves him off with a weak smile, "I was on my way out the door when a classmate approached me with a bouquet and a confession."  He pauses.  "And then another."

Sanae can't contain her first sharp laugh and has to cover her mouth with her hand, but Shuuichi hears it and shoots a sharp glance in her direction.

"There's nothing more romantic than flowers," Momoka sighs, exchanging knowing winks with Sanae.  "So what did you do with them all?"

“They’re taking up space in my room for now,” he says as he ties his apron on, “I thought it would be in poor taste to throw them away on school grounds.”

“You could always bring them back and we could resell them,” Sanae jokes, wincing when Momoka glares at her but smiles when she hears Shuuichi mutter, “Tempting.”

There’s an awkward tenseness between them for most of the afternoon, and Sanae is trying to think of the best way to ask Shuuichi about yesterday without making things worse, because if she didn’t know better, she’d say he knows more than she does.

She never gets the chance to ask, though, because when their shifts end, Shuuichi calls to her before she slips out the door.  “Headed home?” he asks.  She shrugs noncommittally, and then internally berates herself for managing to look even more suspicious in her attempts to look nonchalant.  _A ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would’ve been fine,_ she thinks glumly. 

“I usually stop for food on my way, if you’d like to join me,” he says, and even though it’s worded as an invitation, his tone makes it sound mandatory.  His eyes don’t hold the same intensity as they did yesterday, but Sanae nods and stays on her toes.  Momoka, oblivious as usual, waves cutely from behind the register and tells them to have fun.

They don’t go far from the shop, finding a yakitori stand nearby.  Sanae politely declines when he offers to buy some for her and finds a bench, taking the bento she packed out of her school bag.  “Aren’t you afraid your fanclub might see us together?” she asks when he comes to sit down.

He laughs a little.  They eat in silence for a moment.  “I worry that I frightened you the other day,” he says.  Sanae tries to give a passive wave, but its timidity probably betrays her thoughts.  “I thought I should apologize.  That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what was?”

Shuuichi glances at her.  She keeps her eyes on her food.  “I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“If you want to know something,” she says quietly, nervous under his gaze, “Then just ask.”

“Would you answer honestly?”

“Only if you do.”  She sets her chopsticks down, abandoning any plans of eating.  “Because I have questions for you, too.  That’s fair, right?”

Shuuichi hesitates before slowly agreeing to her terms.  “What were you really looking for the other day?” 

Sanae hesitates a very long moment.  She’s had conversations like this before with people she thought would understand.  She wants to think that Shuuichi is different, but thinking like that has gotten her in trouble before.  The patient look on his face makes her take a deep breath and throw caution to the wind.  “A youkai,” she says, watching his face closely.  “Like the ones in folklore.  Except not, because they’re real.”  He doesn’t even flinch in surprise.  “You…already know about youkai?”

“I know quite a bit,” he says, “That’s why I came to the flower shop in the first place.  I assume it’s the same for you?”

“Yes!” Sanae gasps.  Her excitement is growing, and so is a tiny spark of hope, but she tries to keep it under control.  She doesn’t want to be disappointed.  “So you can feel it, too?  You don’t think I’m totally crazy?”

“No,” Shuuichi says.

“You mean it?  You’re not just messing with me?”

“I am not messing with you, Sanae,” he says, putting his hand over hers reassuringly.

Sanae almost laughs.  She almost cries, too.  _Where have you been all my life?_ she wonders for the millionth time since meeting him.

“You’re human, then?” Shuuichi asks suddenly, which almost catches her off-guard.  Sanae would like to say yes, without hesitation, but she knows it’s a little more complicated than that.  Kanako and Suwako have tried to explain it to her a hundred times, and she still doesn’t quite understand it, doesn’t really want to understand it.

“Technically,” she says, “Yes.  Just not a normal one.”

She’s surprised further when Shuuichi gives her the kind of warm smile she’s already started to miss.  “Ah.  Then you and I have something in common.”

“What?  Really?” she asks, no longer able to hide her enthusiasm.  There is someone out here in the outside world, who senses youkai and looks at her with a smile rather than a scowl.  He doesn’t call her names or bully her, but says they’re alike.  Sanae has never met someone anywhere who she felt was a kindred spirit, but now….

“If we’re both after the same target, then perhaps we should work together?” he suggests, and Sanae nods eagerly.  “Do you have much experience with youkai?”

She laughs.  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Sanae is not a normal girl.  She has never been a normal girl, and she will never be a normal girl.

But for the first time, she thinks she’s okay with that.

She’s so okay with it that she forgets that she had any questions of her own that she wanted to ask, something she’ll look back on and regret later.


	6. Teamwork

“It has to be something relatively harmless,” Sanae says, face resting in her palms as she leans over the café table.  After another day at work in the youkai-tainted flower shop listening to Momoka try to hide her returning cough, she’s determined to get to the root of the problem sooner rather than later.  “Right?  I mean, Miss Momoka’s illness is probably related, but overall, it hasn’t caused a lot of damage.”

“Precisely,” Shuuichi says across from her.

To the casual passerby, they might even look like a couple, she thinks, and tries not to be too excited about that.

“Honestly, my first instinct was that it might be a spirit of some sort,” he says, “But even vengeful ghosts tend not to have such a stifling presence.”

“More than a ghost, but less than any youkai I’ve ever run into.”

“You saw it the other day, didn’t you?”

“Well….”  Sanae looks down sheepishly.  “I did, but…I don’t know, I think something might be wrong with it, or it might be weak, because I can hardly remember.  You know how sometimes when those kinds of things are slipping out of existence, you can’t quite keep them on your mind?  Like you know you saw something or heard something, but the details escape you every time.”

The irony, she thinks bitterly, hunting a youkai she can relate to.  On the flipside, figuring out what it is might help her understand her own “condition” a little better.

Shuuichi looks pensive.  “There’s something we’re missing.  Until we figure it out, I’m afraid we’ll have to remain on the defensive.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously, Sanae looks down at the table.  “Do you think Miss Momoka is okay?”

“She is exhibiting symptoms again,” he says, “But as long as she spends time away from the flower shop, she’ll recover.  Honestly, I think the flowers doing well is more than enough to keep her in high spirits.”

“Yeah,” Sanae mumbles, face heating at the smile as they both stand to part ways.

“Since we’re done for the day,” Shuuichi says as they reach the café door, “If you have no other plans, would you care to join me on a walk?”

A walk, Sanae thinks wildly, just a walk, and yet her thoughts are wandering everywhere else.  When it’s business and youkai, she’s fine, but take that away and the fact is that Shuuichi is a boy and she is not good with those.

“That sounds good,” she manages, almost choking on the words in her hurry to get them out.  She lets him lead, eyes wandering the storefronts and billboards they pass as they drift further from the city, telephone poles replaces by trees, cement giving way to earth, as the ground slopes uphill.

In fact, Sanae thinks with a hint of anxiety, she’s pretty sure she knows this path.  It runs parallel to the bus route that goes back to the Hakurei Shrine.  But the mountains are a ways away, and she can’t imagine they’d actually walk all the way up there.

“We’ve been working together for some time now,” Shuuichi says, “But I feel like I don’t know you very well yet.”

“Oh,” Sanae says with a nervous laugh, “I guess you’re right.”  The air in the forest is alive with old magic, the winds of Gensokyo flowing down the mountain.  Her skin prickles and she feels lighter, more powerful.  She wonders if Shuuichi can feel it, too.

“We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to,” he says gently.

Sanae chances a glance at his face.  His eyes are gentle, reassuring.  There are plenty of things she’d like to tell him, but she’s not sure she’s even supposed to.  “Um,” she trails off, and leaves it hanging as they come across a clearing where the forest opens up onto a lake.  Sanae goes right to the edge and gazes down at her reflection as it distorts in a ripple stirred by the wind.  “I don’t know.  What do you want to talk about?”

“Whatever you’d like.”  He shrugs.  “Your interests and hobbies, likes and dislikes, your family, if that’s not too personal.”

_Ordinary things,_ Sanae tells herself, _you can do this._

“Well,” she says, feeling only marginally more comfortable, “Um, my classmates call me an otaku sometimes.”

“That doesn’t really tell me anything,” he chuckles, “I’m not interested in what other people consider you, only what you consider yourself.”

She watches as a blush creeps across her face in her reflection.  “I mean, I do like some anime and manga,” she tells him without looking up, “And I’m into some weird things, I guess.  I’m really interested in folklore, but I’m not very knowledgeable about it.”

Shuuichi remains standing and doesn’t crowd her, something she’s immensely thankful for, because she can see herself doing something dumb like falling into the lake headfirst.  “I guess you already know I have an interest in gardening,” he says, “I’m also interested in literature, particularly foreign authors.”

“Oh,” she says, feeling a little inadequate, “That’s cool.” 

As if sensitive to her discomfort, he gracefully changes the subject.  “I think I picked up both of them from my mother,” he says, and Sanae glances up at him curiously at his change in tone.  She hasn’t heard him speak so fondly before.  “It’s been just the two of us for a little while now, so we’re close.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sanae says softly.  “I live with my mom and dad, and I’m an only child, too.”  She pauses.  “We’re not very close, though.  I wish we were closer.”

“There’s still time,” Shuuichi tells her with a smile, one that pains her to mirror.  She tries to force out the words, “You’re right,” maybe cheerfully, but her throat constricts in not only sadness but in guilt. 

“Shuuichi,” she says, “It’s actually a lot more complicated than that.”

“How so?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested, and that hurts even more.

She can’t bring herself to say, afraid of ruining whatever it is she’s already built with him.  Shuuichi is silent for a long time before he crouches beside her and gently strokes the leaves of a budding plant on the water’s edge.  As if coaxed into growing, it begins to move, and Sanae watches in awe as its stem thickens and the bud splits down the sides and opens, bright red petals unfurling in a spiral.  She sits on the ground and looks to him for an explanation, but he only smiles.  “I’m not sure you would’ve asked,” he says, “So I thought I’d just show you.”

“That’s incredible,” Sanae says, “I wish I could do that.”  Actually, she should be able to, but the powers of the wind from one of her gods has always come easier than those of the earth, and the closest she can come to stimulating plant growth is causing a miracle, which is an unnecessary waste of her power, as she has been reminded several times.

Shuuichi’s modest smile, she suspects, is also telling her that it _really_ isn’t anything special.  This is probably on the lower end of what he can do.  She also takes the hint, from the way his eyes are sparkling, that he’s not expecting but gently asking if she’d like to show him something in return.  An exercise in trust, she realizes, and suddenly wishes she knew a spell that was small and cute, like making a flower bloom, because her magic is just about anything but subtle.

Sanae stands up and takes a deep breath before putting one foot out over the water.  She takes another slow step; the surface ripples beneath her foot, but she doesn’t fall through.  She exhales, and starts walking.

It’s been a while since she’s walked on water, and nothing would be more embarrassing than being so out of practice that she falls right through.  Thankfully, she’s gotten a little more comfortable around Shuuichi, less prone to dropping things and stammering, so she manages to get out to the middle of the lake.  She glances timidly over her shoulder, hoping she hasn’t frightened him off yet, but Shuuichi is standing up straight and smiling.

Sanae could almost sigh she’s so relieved.

She walks back to him confidently, the water feeling like glass bending beneath her weight but not quite cracking.  She makes it back to the shore and clasps her hands behind her back, looking up at him expectantly.

“ _That_ was incredible,” he tells her, and it’s her turn to be modest and shake her head.

“I like what you can do better,” she says, “I bet your mother appreciates the help with her garden.”

He smiles, and it’s a little sad. 

Her own smile falls.  “She doesn’t know, does she?”

“No.”  He tilts his head.  “Does yours?”

Sanae looks back at the lake as the ripples fade away like they were never there.  “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how I said it was complicated?” she asks, “Well, that’s why.  The yokuai in the store and I have something in common; out of sight, out of mind.  A lot of people have forgotten about me.”

“Your parents?”

Sanae shrugs.

“How could they have just forgotten?”  He sounds genuinely upset, like he can’t even imagine it.

“It’s not their fault,” she says, and doesn’t say a word more.

They stand side by side looking out over the water, the wind rustling the leaves behind them.  Sanae thinks she can hear it whispering to her, but she can’t make out the words.

“I feel kind of bad for this youkai,” Sanae says very quietly, as if hoping nobody will hear her, “I mean, it’s been killing plants and making Miss Momoka sick, so I shouldn’t.  But I do.  Its aura is just so heavy and kind of sticks to everything, and I feel like it’s not even on purpose.  I guess I can’t just jump to conclusions like that.  I don’t know why else—!”

“Wait,” Shuuichi says suddenly, eyes narrowing.  Sanae looks up at him.  “What was the last thing you said?  About its aura?”

“Um,” she thinks, “It’s heavy.  And everywhere.”

“And maybe that’s not intentional.”  She can practically see the light bulb come on over his head.  “A keukegen.”

“What?”

He starts walking away from the lake, and Sanae hurries to follow.  “A keukegen,” he repeats, “Their aura curses humans who remain close to them for long periods of time with misfortune and disease.  Miss Momoka spends more time in the shop than either of us, so it’s not surprising that we haven’t been affected yet.  They’re notoriously difficult to see, and the curse they spread is accidental; they’re really quite timid and usually stay away from humans.”

Something clicks into place, and Sanae can suddenly recall the creature she chased into the backroom, the shuffling pile of fur with frightened eyes.

The forest gives way to paved streets.  Sanae spots the flower shop from a block away.  “But Miss Momoka already left for the day,” she says, “The store’s locked.”

“Normally, I would wait,” Shuuichi says, eyes straight ahead and focused, “Her health will improve on its own if she takes another sick day, but she’ll only get sick again if we don’t remove the youkai.  More importantly, this may be something we should take care of without anyone else around.”

She notices how he doesn’t really answer the unspoken, “ _how do you plan to get in?”_ but lets it go, figuring she’s about to find out what he has in mind. Happy Hana looks gloomy with all of the lights out and nobody inside.  Even walking by the storefront with all of the beautiful blossoms in the window, Sanae feels a chill.  Shuuichi leads her around to the back door, and Sanae looks around nervously, worried that they’re doing something they’re not supposed to, when she hears a click and turns around again.  Shuuichi is holding the door open, waiting for her.  She doesn’t ask how he picked the lock with seemingly nothing but his bare hands.

“Since you’re familiar with youkai,” he says, “I don’t need to tell you that this could be dangerous?”

Sanae would like to be touched at his concern, but she isn’t about to let him keep her from going in.  Catching the youkai has become personal.  “No,” she says, “You don’t need to.”  Reluctantly, he steps aside and lets her in.  “How exactly do you catch one of these things?” she whispers.

“You keep it at the forefront of your mind,” Shuuichi says, “This is the kind of youkai that can’t be seen if you don’t know what to look for.”

Sanae has never even heard of a keukegen before, but she takes his word on it; there are other youkai that she’s had trouble perceiving, but only when they were weak, fading between worlds.  Anything that lives close to the boundary or traveled frequently is prone to vanishing and reappearing without a warning.

She knows all about that, of course, because it applies to her, as well.

Despite the midday sun in the sky, as soon as the door shuts behind them, the entire store is shrouded in darkness.  Sanae covers her mouth with her hand as the aura settles over her like a blanket.  “Stay close,” Shuuichi says, his voice dangerously quiet, “Keukegen aren’t normally hostile, but we shouldn’t take any chances.”

For whatever reason, Shuuichi seems to have a clear head and no difficulty breathing and makes a beeline for the backroom.  Sanae stays a step behind him, peering over his shoulder as he throws open the door.  There, in the middle of the floor, sits the keukegen, its big eyes staring up at them almost pitifully.  Darkness seeps from under its fur, clogging the air with curses.

It looks so afraid.

“It’s weak,” Shuuichi says, “It probably came here by mistake but is too frightened to leave.”

Sanae doesn’t hear him.  She can’t say that she sees itself in its eyes or whatever, because she really doesn’t, but she sympathizes, which is a new feeling.  She’s exterminated youkai for a lot less than what this one has done, and yet she’s lost in thought, struggling to separate herself from the keukegen.

Disappearing.  People forgetting who you are, that you even exist.  It’s not your fault or theirs, but it still hurts when you look at familiar faces they stare back with only the cordial friendliness of a stranger.  Sanae knows that feeling.  People who were good to her.  People who were cruel to her.  Her own family.  She regrets leaving some days, and some days she only thinks about all of the people she scared and upset, the people she didn’t mean to bother but whom she caused problems for anyway. 

“I know somewhere,” she remembers hearing, a voice mingling with the wind, carrying away her tears, “Somewhere you can go.  Somewhere you won’t be a bother, and others won’t bother you.  Somewhere you can be yourself.  Do you want to see it?  Of course you do.  You’ve been searching for a place like that for a long time, haven’t you?  Sanae….”

“Sanae!”

Shuuichi’s voice brings her out of her thoughts, just in time for her to return to the present and see the backroom begin to warp around them, the open doorway behind them curving and the walls bending inward.  Sanae stumbles as vertigo overtakes her, the youkai’s aura dulling her senses and reflexes, and takes a step or two, and then the floor gives out into darkness and she falls.  She hears Shuuichi calling to her, close at first, and then farther and farther away.  Space and time distort around her, and it’s the strangest feeling in the world—like she’s been falling forever or maybe she just fell a second ago or maybe she’s actually flying, she doesn’t really know.  The darkness rushes past her on all sides, above and below, and she thinks she’s heard of this before from Reimu.

“That feeling,” she recalls the shrine maiden’s words faintly, “When everything is moving closer and farther away the same time, when you’re falling and flying, the feeling you get right before you land—it’s being spirited away.”

The transition from consciousness to unconsciousness is so subtle that she doesn’t even notice when it happens.


	7. Complete Honesty

It’s the kind of dream where a memory replays itself, but only bits and pieces, over and over again like a broken record, and only the parts that were half-forgotten.

She dreams of a high school building’s roof in Nagano, and of three classmates who looked at her with a mixture of fear and disgust.  She remembers knowing, the moment the girl behind her shut the door that lead back to the staircase, that she shouldn’t have gone up there.

“A lot of people think you’re really scary,” another says.  Sanae remembers the way she tied her hair in pigtails, and that her name was Chiyuri, but her face shows up as only a blur.  “It’s because of the way you act,” she goes on, “Pretending to talk to people who aren’t there.  It’s weird.”

Sanae has never told anyone that the wind seems to know her name and talks to her from time to time, indistinct whispers that has to strain her ears to make out, but only because nobody has asked.  It’s something she’s always noticed since she was young, so it doesn’t frighten her, even if she realizes that it’s a little unusual.  “It’s not ‘nobody’,” she says honestly, “It’s the wind.”

The girl next to Chiyuri scoffs.  “You’re just making it up for attention, right?”

“I’m not,” Sanae insists.

“Fine,” Chiyuri says, and grabs her by the arm, dragging her over to the edge of the roof, “Then talk to it now!  What’s it saying?”

There’s a harsh breeze that whips her hair around her face as Sanae is forced to look down at the school yard.  Chiyuri is forcing her to teeter closer to thin air.  “Stop,” she tells the other girl, trembling voice betraying her fear. 

“Sanae,” the wind asks, “Do you hate them?  Do you wish you never had to see them again?”

“I thought you could talk to the wind,” the other girl taunts, raising her voice, “Can’t you tell it to catch you if you fall?”

“Chiyuri,” the girl by the door says uneasily, “Maybe you should back up a little bit.”

“Do you wish you could just disappear?” the wind says.  She feels herself being pulled a little closer to the edge, and not by Chiyuri.  “Do you wish there was a place where no one would think you were strange?”

“Tell the truth,” Chiyuri demands, “Say that you were making it up.”

“Yes,” Sanae sobs, but she isn’t talking to the girls anymore, “Yes, I just want to disappear!  Please, I don’t want to be here anymore!”

The wind howls at them, and suddenly, Chiyuri loses her grip.  Sanae tries to turn herself so she can grab onto something, but her weight carries her over the edge, and she sees Chiyuri’s face frozen in horror suddenly fly away from her until she sees only the sky.

There’s a scream.  Sanae doesn’t think it’s hers.

“I know somewhere you can go,” says the wind, a whisper she hears in her heart and her ears, “Far away from here.  Somewhere you won’t be a bother, and others won’t bother you.  Somewhere you can be yourself.”

Sanae is too afraid to open her eyes, but she feels her stomach jump as her body lurches in the other direction, falling up instead of down, being carried to some unknown destination.

But dimly, somewhere in the back of her mind, Sanae thinks she’s remembering wrong.  “It didn’t happen like this,” she tells the wind as it tugs her in all directions, “Not exactly.”

“Then how did it happen, Sanae?” asks the wind in a voice that is one she recognizes.  Slowly, she opens her eyes.

*

She’s lying on her back in a dark room, light filtering in from above.  Shuuichi’s face hovers above hers.  “I was beginning to worry,” he says, and she returns to her senses enough to be embarrassed, face flushing as he pulls away.

“What happened?” she asks as she sits up, “Where are we?”

“A separate space,” Shuuichi says, looking up.  She follows his gaze and sees what appears to be the backroom of the flower shop, only viewed from below and through a warped glass.  She holds her head in her hands and it starts to come back to her.

“We were spirited away.”

“Yes.”

“But how?” she asks, “Did the keukegen do that?  I thought they weren’t dangerous.”

“In all likelihood,” Shuuichi says, “It wasn’t on purpose.  I believe it may have panicked when we cornered it.  Keeping focused on it would have protected us, but….”

Sanae swallows a lump in her throat.  “I got distracted and stopped thinking about it.  Oh my god, this is all my fault.  I’m sorry, Shuuichi.”

“It’s alright,” he says, “We’ll find a way out.”  He offers a hand to help her to her feet and she gratefully accepts it. 

“How long have we been down here?” she asks.

“It’s impossible to say.  Time passes differently here.”  He pauses.  “It feels as though it’s been hours, but surely it hasn’t been that long.”  Their voices echo in the dark.  Sanae isn’t sure how far the passage goes in either direction, though she suspects it could go on forever. 

“Now what?” she asks.

Shuuichi stares into the darkness, expression thoughtful.  “That’s a good question.  Trying to walk around will do nothing but tire us, and it’s unlikely that the creature is even here.”  He glances up at the rippling reflection of the shop.  “We may be able to lure it back to us, however, if we can manipulate the space to our advantage.”

“How do we do that?”

Sanae’s heart catches in her throat when he looks at her, the old, dangerous look in his eyes again.  “Sanae,” he says softly, “I’m going to be completely honest with you now, and I’d appreciate it if you’d return the favor afterwards.”

She hesitates, looks at her feet, and then looks back up at him and nods. 

“You said you knew a good deal about youkai,” he says, taking a step back from her.  Sanae watches as he closes his eyes, flinching when she feels his energy flaring up, blanketing him like an aura and extending slowly outward.  The space around them warps, darkness moving and melting, and Sanae is almost afraid at the display of power.  “Surely, then, you know that only youkai can manipulate the dimensions associated with being spirited away?”

When he extends his hands out to his sides, the rippling void beneath them turns to soil, dark and fertile earth.  She watches him bend down on one knee, one of his hands coming up seemingly to push back a stray lock of hair, but when she looks again, he has a plant seed between his fingers.  He drops it onto the ground and it undergoes explosive growth, maturing into a flowering bush in mere seconds. 

The space fills with Shuuichi’s energy and a particular scent that Sanae associates with wet earth, dense forests and old youkai.  Identical to the one in the shop.

She shivers.  “You’re a youkai?” she whispers.

He doesn’t look at her.

“But…But I thought…you said—!”

“I asked you if you were human.  You never asked me,” he cuts her off, focused on the plant.  “You said you were _technically_ human, and I said we had something in common.”

She stares at him, trying to understand.  The scent in the shop had been so overwhelming, mingling with that of the keukegen, and she’d never been able to pinpoint it to any specific creature.  But she’d spent lots of time with Shuuichi, and she still couldn’t figure out how she hadn’t noticed he was a youkai. 

As though sensing her unasked questions, he says, “This is a human body, one that I intended only to borrow temporarily.  But I am a youkai in every other way.”

“What are you saying?” she asks shakily, taking another step back.  “You took over some poor kid?  Possessed him?”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Shuuichi tells her, standing from the plant.  Sanae flinches.  “I came into possession of this body while it was still developing in the womb of a human.”

She almost snaps at him, almost asks if he thinks that makes him better because he has no business living as a human, but she’s silenced when she recognizes the look he’s giving her as one of apprehension—a look she’s seen in the mirror before when she thinks about all of the people who will never really get to know her because she could never tell them.

Shuuichi worries that she’ll reject him, she realizes, and it makes her heart hurt, because she very nearly did.

“You’re looking at me rather intently,” he says, offering a smile to ease the tension. 

She looks down at her feet.  “Sorry.”  She glances at the plant.  “What’d you do?”

“The blossoms of this plant produces pollen that attracts low-class youkai,” he explains, “I can’t seem to accelerate the growth rate any further due to the warping of space-time here, so we’ll have to wait a while longer.”  He raises a brow.  “Which gives us plenty of time to talk.”

He takes a seat next to the bush, body language suggesting that he expects Sanae to join him.  She lingers a few feet away.  “I don’t even know where to start,” she admits.

“Why don’t you explain the “technical” aspects of your humanity?” he asks, smiling playfully.  She can’t quite return it.

“It’s complicated,” she says stubbornly, not really wanting to think about it.  “But I’m pretty much human.  I was born human.  I wasn’t a youkai before or anything.”

“How did you learn about youkai?”

Sanae has to think about how to answer.  “It’s,” she pauses, “Kind of like kids who grow up with parents in specialized fields, like doctors and stuff like that.  They see certain kinds of things all the time, and even if they don’t know all of the terminology, they’re just used to it.  It’s a world they’ve always known about.”

“Then you had high spiritual awareness as a child?”

“Yeah.”

Shuuichi nods.  Sanae feels a little guilty and comes just a couple steps closer.  “You seem uncomfortable,” he says, “Perhaps now that you know what I really am, you’ll start avoiding me?”

“No,” she insists, running a hand through her hair in frustration.  She can’t understand how someone who’s known her for such a short time knows her so well.  “I’m sorry.  I probably seem like a jerk right now.  Especially since you accepted me without any problems.  It’s just….”  She tries to think of a way to phrase it delicately, but can’t come up with anything.  “Shuuichi, I hunt youkai.  Like, I seek them out and, if need be, I exterminate them.  Not necessarily for a living, either.  It’s just what I do.  I have charms in my school bag that would leave burns on your hands if you just touched them.”

Shuuichi didn’t look so much frightened as he did further interested.  “You say you don’t do it for a living,” he notes, “Then why do it?”

“Because I….”

She pauses.  Why _does_ she do it?  Because she wants to help people?  Because the humans in Gensokyo expect it from her?  Because it’s part of her duties that go along with being a wind priestess?  She supposes it’s probably the same reason she does everything else—because she wants to belong.  And to belong in Gensokyo, it’s what she has to do.

“Because I want to,” she says at least, and Shuuichi’s eyes are calling her a liar.  “Does that make you hate me?”

“No,” he says, “I’m sure you have reasons beyond that, even if you aren’t willing to share them.”

Sanae stares at the ground for a long time before she finally works up the courage to sit down on the opposite side of the plant, glancing timidly over the leaves as Shuuichi.  “It’s weird and kind of ironic,” she murmurs, “I was afraid I’d make things incredibly awkward between us if you found out I wasn’t really normal.  Then it turns out that things only get awkward when both of us aren’t normal.”

“Things don’t have to be awkward,” he tells her.

“Well, I’m about to make them awkward,” she says.  Inwardly, she tells herself to shut up, but she can’t seem to stop talking.  It’s like talking to Reimu or Youmu, except not at all.  She has so much in common with Shuuichi, and yet he’s a youkai, and really, she shouldn’t be sitting so close to him.  “We’re being honest, right?  Okay.  Complete, total honesty; I’ve had the worst crush on you since literally the first moment I saw you.”

He doesn’t look surprised. 

“And you know what?  I’m still not over it,” she goes on, “At least I can talk to you now without stumbling, and I don’t drop stuff around you all the time anymore.  But I’m still not over it, and it’s pretty much the worst feeling in the world, especially now.”

“Sanae,” Shuuichi stops her, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs, “Because I want to?  Because I feel like I can?  Both?”  The real reason is neither of those things; she’s not being nearly as honest as she should be, but she suspects both of them are leaving things out.

“If it’s any consolation,” he says, “You’re much more enjoyable to be around then many of my classmates.”

“You sure know how to let a girl down easy.”

“Is that what it sounded like?”

She could feel her face heating up.  “What?”

“I was simply making a statement, nothing more.”  His smile is mischievous.  Sanae thinks her heart is going to destroy itself with how fast it’s beating.

“Stop right there,” she says, “We’re in some sort of twisted, alternate dimension type thing trying to find a youkai.  If you’re going to make a move, now is not the time.  Stay on your side of the bush.”

Shuuichi is temporarily startled, and then he smiles.  He chuckles softly, the sound growing in volume until he can’t contain his laughter.  Sanae doesn’t know what comes over her, but she starts laughing, too.  She’s pretty sure she’s never been on a hunt that was quite so ridiculous.  “I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he says with a playful smile, and Sanae becomes embarrassed all over again, until he suddenly tears his eyes away to look at the plant.  “It’s blooming.”

Sanae follows his gaze and watches as a bud splits, revealing bright, yellow petals with soft edges.  She glances at Shuuichi curiously when he inhales and closes his eyes. 

“What a pleasant smell.”

“I don’t smell anything,” she says, and he smiles.

“Because you’re not a youkai.”

When she looks up, the flower shop looks a little further away, but she might just be imagining things.  Sanae has been spirited away, trapped in another dimension with a powerful youkai, and any other day, she would be terrified and setting up barriers and maybe launching into battle.  She tells herself that she won’t make a habit out of cozying up with them.  Just with Shuuichi, maybe, if he isn’t just flirting a little.

Sanae stretches her legs out in front of her and plays with the hem of her skirt.  “Now we just wait for it to show up?”

“Yes.  And try to keep focused on it.”  He smiles gently.  “We’ll talk more about other things after this is resolved.”

“Okay,” Sanae says, eyes straight ahead.  She got so excited that she nearly forget that she can’t really stick around.  Maybe just one extra day, she tells herself, maybe just a few more conversations.  Shuuichi may be kind-of-sort-of-technically youkai, but she doubts he’ll be an exception to the way the boundary works.

She can make all the promises she wants now, because he won’t remember any of them in a few days.


	8. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting around waiting for me to finish it for months now, so I thought I'd come back and give it a try.

Sanae is brought out of her reverie by whooshing in the darkness, an eerie, moaning wind, growing louder by the second.  Fumbling for her schoolbag, she finds Shuuichi already standing, eyes fixed on the darkness a few feet away.  

“We’re about to have company,” he says, and Sanae gets to her feet.

“That doesn’t sound like youkai,” she says.

“Lingering spirits formed from negative emotion,” he nods, “Responding to energy the plant gives off rather than the smell.  Not particularly problematic on their own, but this feels like more than a few.”  The playful smile he shoots in her direction brings heat to her face, and Sanae reminds herself not to get distracted.  “How would you like to handle this?”

“Fighting a bunch of shades would be a waste of time and energy,” she says, taking a few steps ahead of him and digging the toe of her shoe into the soil.  She draws a circle around them, feeling Shuuichi following with his eyes, and then kneels when she returns to her original position, putting her hands in her lap.  Focus, she has to focus, has to bring energy to her hands and work a small miracle with every movement.  She feels power welling up within her, warmth spreading from her center and radiating out like ripples on a pond.  Shuuichi’s aura, crackling with animalistic ferocity, flares up and inches curiously closer.  “I think a purification barrier is our best bet,” she says, clapping her hands together, “We stay put safe inside, use your plant as a lure, and let them fizzle out on the barrier.”

“An excellent plan.  Of course, maintaining a barrier long enough to absorb so many spirits just might leave you drained.”  

Sanae wants to argue, but she knows he’s right.  The moans of the restless embodiments of gloom draw closer still, shadows swirling only a few feet away, and she knows she doesn’t have any time to waste.  “I’m open to suggestions.”

When Shuuichi’s hands come to rest on her shoulders, she flinches but he holds her there, kneeling behind her.  “Go ahead and prepare the barrier,” he says reassuringly, “I’ll lend you some energy.”  Though uneasy with him so close--and touching her--Sanae takes a steadying breath, puts her hands together again and closes her eyes.  

The hum of pure energy runs through her again, and she feels Shuuichi’s aura mingling with her own, twisting and turning itself around her and engulfing her in a protective warmth.  She feels a phantom wind lifting her hair and sees a faint glow through her closed eyelids.  She inhales, holds her breath in and tenses everything in her body, feeling Shuuichi all around her, in the air and the soil, and then exhales.  The barrier rises.

The _sounds_ the spirits make when they clash with her energy is enough to make her eyes fly open in fear.  A face, translucent and warped, mouth open in a silent scream, is right in front of her, and she tries to stay calm, tries to keep herself centered even as more of them surge forward, throwing themselves at the barrier and shrieking as they’re pulled apart.  

“Be calm,” Shuuichi’s soothing voice comes from behind her, “You’re not alone.  I won’t let the barrier fall.”

She closes her eyes again, and for a moment, wonders why it is that she’s more afraid of what’s on the outside of the barrier than what’s inside.  Shuuichi is hiding behind the face of a human, but he’s still a youkai, still an old, strong spirit whose power she feels all around her, and yet she doesn’t fear him.  His presence grounds her, makes her feel safe, and with a surge of confidence, Sanae feels the barrier expanding.  

The echo of the spirits’ shrieks slowly fade into the darkness, and the next time Sanae opens her eyes, she sees a rippling curtain of blue, a shield of aurora borealis shimmering in front of her face.  When Shuuichi lets go, the barrier fades, and Sanae wipes her brow with her forearm.  “It’s a bit early to celebrate,” he says, pointing straight ahead, and when she strains her ears, she can hear something shuffling forward in the dark.  Scrambling to her feet, she pulls an ofuda from her bag, holds the paper charm between her fingers and waits.  The black, matted fur of the keukegen slowly comes into view.

“You again,” she growls, "You’ve caused a lot of trouble for Miss Momoka, and for us, too.”  The youkai bows its head as though ashamed, and Sanae raises a brow.  “What’s that pathetic look for?”

“It seems to understand you,” Shuuichi says, “For a lesser demon, it’s quite intelligent.”

“You understand me?” Sanae asks, feeling silly when it only stares back with its big, dark eyes.  The keukegen shuffles a bit closer, tracing a few inches of the circle drawn in the soil with its nose.  Sanae blinks.  “Look, I’m not good at charades, so….”

“The spirits,” Shuuichi suddenly chimes in, “They were from the store, weren’t they?  You’ve been trapping them in here.”  It nods, fur waving wildly with every motion.

“What?” Sanae asks, looking between the boy and the creature.

“It seems this is a bit of a misunderstanding.  The spirits have been gathering due to Miss Momoka’s depression.  The keukegen was actually trying to protect her by spiriting away whatever she created.”

“What?  How did you even get that?”

Shuuichi smiles confidently.  “Perhaps it’s a youkai thing.  I’m not sure I could explain.”

She tries not to pout, but she figures she must be, because his smile only widens.  “Fine, whatever.  If you understand it so well, then ask it to take us home.”

Turning to the creature, Shuuichi nods.  “If you could, please.”

The floor seems to fall and Sanae shrieks, clutching wildly at the air to find purchase, her stomach churning uneasily at the sensation of free-fall.  The next thing she knows, she’s rolling on the floor of the storeroom, back slamming into one of the cupboards and knocking the wind out of her.  Shuuichi recovers much more quickly, offering a hand to help her to her feet, and Sanae takes it with a sheepish smile.  The keukegen comes forward, rubbing its scruffy face between them.  Sanae kneels and puts a hand on its head.  “Shuuichi says you’re a good guy after all,” she tells it, “But if you stay, you’ll just cause more trouble.”  She frowns when it lets out a pitiful mewl.  “Don’t look at me like that.  You can’t stay here.”  She sees her reflection in its eyes and tries, very hard, not to feel sorry for it.  But when she thinks about the big picture, about Shuuichi and this entire trip, about what this has been about from the very beginning, she decides she could stand to learn something from it.

With a long-suffering sigh, she gathers the youkai in her arms and stands up, frowning.  “I guess I know somewhere you can go,” she says softly, “Somewhere far away from here.  You won’t be a bother, and others won’t bother you.”  She thinks of her memories from that spring day on the school roof, the things that happened, the things the stories say happened, the things the wind said to her.  “We can be ourselves there.”

When she turns and sees Shuuichi’s eyes watching her carefully, her gaze drops to the ground.  “And where would that be?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

Sanae takes a good look at the strange boy she met only weeks ago, one who still sometimes makes her heart beat a little faster, one who really gets her, and she feels an ache in her chest, knowing she has to leave something wonderful behind.  “How about this,” she says, “Let me take the keukegen somewhere it won’t cause any more trouble, and I’ll explain tomorrow.”  It isn’t a lie; she does intend to tell him a few things, truths that will fade with every day she’s gone.  Shuuichi keeps his eyes locked with hers and doesn’t speak for a long time, and Sanae resists the urge to shrink away from his gaze.  

“I’ll hold you to it,” Shuuichi says, and she nods in agreement, inwardly both smiling and frowning at the knowledge that he can’t possibly.

He lets her go, follows her to the door and locks it again behind them, and Sanae timidly glances at him out of the corner of her eye before she makes up her mind.  Turning on her heel, she presses a kiss to his cheek, and Shuuichi’s expression is still shocked when she summons a great gust of wind and rides it into the clouds, giving him a sad smile on her way up.  The keukegen squirms impatiently in her arms and she pats it on the head saying, “Just a minute, we’ll be there soon,” following the path into the mountains.  When she crosses the threshold into Gensokyo, she immediately feels the change, losing track of Shuuichi’s aura and feeling the raw power of the land filling her with strength.  Her feet touch the ground outside of Moriya Shrine, setting the youkai down at the base of the steps, and brushing its shed fur off of her shirt.

“Go on,” she says, “There are lots of dank, dark places on Youkai Mountain.  You’ll find something.”  It doesn’t leave, staring up at her with its big, pitiful eyes.  “You can’t stay here,” she says gently, “You’ll make me sick.”  She wonders about that, though.  Being close to it has been difficult, but she’s not a typical human; she’d probably adjust to it over time.  “You can come back,” she offers, “And visit.  Someone will be here.”  

Apparently satisfied, the keukegen begins shuffling down the mountain and into the woods, glancing back only once at Sanae, and if she didn’t know better, she might mistake the shine in its eyes for gratitude.  She lets out a sigh and allows herself to smile.  Another job well done.

“A keukegen?” Kanako asks, suddenly appearing behind her.  Sane doesn’t even flinch in surprise anymore.  “Mangy little thing.  You found that in the outside world?”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t exterminate it?”

Sanae shrugs.  “It wasn’t necessary.”

“If the humans in the village saw you doing that, they’d probably worry you were starting to sympathize with the youkai.”

“They didn’t see it, though.”

Kanako crouches on the bottom step, resting her chin in her hands.  “Is that it, then?  A keukegen kept you from your duties here for weeks?”  Sanae turns to argue, but she’s interrupted.  “No.  It was that boy you mentioned.”

“That’s not--!”

“I see,” Kanako murmurs, “So what will you do now?  You’ve solved the youkai problem.  Are there any other pressing matters that you have to attend to in the outside world?”  

The correct answer, Sanae knows, is no.  She opts for the closest thing.  “Just one more day,” she begs, and Kanako waves passively.  

“It doesn’t matter to me either way,” she says, ignoring Sanae’s frown that calls her a liar, “Do what you want.  But when you’re done, don’t come back here.  Go see the Hakurei Shrine maiden.”

“Why?”

“She wants to talk to you, because something is happening,” Kanako says, eyes glinting like a snake’s, “And Gensokyo needs protection now more than ever.”

A cold wind blows through the shrine and Sanae shivers.  “Should I just go now?”

“No.”  Kanako stands up and starts to vanish, translucency moving up her body from her feet.  “You can’t save Gensokyo when your mind is wandering to other worlds.”

“It’s not wandering.”  Sanae shakes her head.  “I’m not wandering.”

“There are things you can get away with lying about, Sanae,” the wind says, her god having vanished from sight, “But that is not one of them.”

Sanae stands there, staring up at the shrine steps, hands balled into fists at her sides. _An incident,_ she thinks bitterly, _what timing!_  She can’t really complain; there is no greater obligation she has than to save Gensokyo when it’s in danger.  Unfortunately, it’s left her with only one more day to tie up her loose ends.  She needs to tell Miss Momoka that she’s not available anymore and say goodbye to Shuuichi.  It’s not because she’s never coming back, because she will.  She always does.

But in a few weeks, they won’t remember her.


	9. Someday

It’s just not something the others understand, Sanae thinks as she catches a bus in the outside world, and that’s okay.

She takes a window seat on the left side and watches the modern marvels of the world she left behind pass her by.  She looks at the pop idol faces plastered to the buildings downtown and tries to remember their names, looks at what girls her age are wearing, glances at ads on billboards, because they probably won’t be the same the next time she comes.  They’ll have faded away and been forgotten about.

Sanae gets off somewhere downtown.  The skirt of her old school uniform swishes around her legs.  Shopkeepers smile at her.  She looks like she belongs there.  It’s all so important, but she doesn’t know why.  

She’s done this a dozen times now.  Why does it matter anymore?

The strangest thing of all is the scent she gets on the breeze that whistles past her--and on that breeze, she hears what must be Kanako’s faint whispers, telling her to hurry up, move on, _why are you wasting your time on these people who won’t know your face a week from now?_ \--carrying with it the scent of a youkai.  Not the keukegen, but something older and stronger.  Shuuichi.

She passes all of the familiar storefronts she’s come to use as landmarks until she again finds herself standing in front of display windows filled with plants.  The moment she steps through the front door, Momoka comes over and offers to hire her.  “I promised I’d pay you as soon as I could afford to,” she says, “I know it’s a bit soon, and I just got back, but I’ve got a good feeling, you know?  Like this big weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.  I really think things are going to turn around.”

Sanae just smiles.

“You’ve done so much for me,” Momoka goes on, “Shuuichi, too.  It’s not fair that you’ve done as much as you have without anything in return.”

“I’m just glad I could help,” Sanae says absently.

Momoka pauses.  “You don’t want the job?” she asks very slowly.

Shuuichi looks over from the shelf he’s arranging.

“That’s not…”  Sanae tries to find something else to look at besides Momoka’s disappointed face.  “I do want it,” she assures her, “I really, really, do.  But I’m...having some problems at home, and I need to face them.”

“Oh.”  The shopkeeper still sounds disappointed, but not nearly so crushed at least.  “Well, I know how that is.”  Sanae waits for it.  “I’ll leave a position open for you, just in case.”

“You’re too kind,” she says, “I promise I’ll come back.”  At that, Momoka smiles, and heads back to the register.  

Shuuichi comes over then.  “So what happened?” he whispers.  She stares at him.  “Yesterday,” he reminds her, “You know.”

“Oh,” she mumbles, “That.  Right.  It went fine.  There shouldn’t be any more problems, at least.”

He nods.  “I’m glad.  What are you going to do now?”

“Go home,” she says easily.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, keeping his voice low.  He glances over his shoulder as a customer comes in and Momoka practically leaps at them.  Sanae bites her lip, eyes sliding to the side.  Shuuichi steps into her field of vision again, intent on getting an answer.  “You flew away yesterday,” Shuuichi tells her, “You never told me where you went.”

“I came back, didn’t I?”

“You’re talking like there won’t be a next time.”

Shuuichi is not like anyone else that Sanae has met.  If he were, she would have assured him that she would, that he was being paranoid or imagining things.  But she feels this desire to be honest with him, really honest, and the truth is that she might as well not be coming back.  

She glances at Momoka, still preoccupied and daydreaming.

“I might come back,” she says, “But it won’t really matter.  You won’t recognize me.”

“Where did you go yesterday?”

“And you won’t be able to help it,” she continues, taking another step back, “It won’t be your fault, and it won’t be mine.  Days will pass, then weeks, and you’ll start to forget about me.  You’ll forget my face, and then my name.  You’ll see that clover on the window and wonder why it’s there.”

“Where did you take the youkai?”  It’s the closest she’s seen Shuuichi to being furious.  She wants to back down, but she knows she can’t.  She has to get it all out now, while she’s still feeling brave and he still knows who she is.  “Sanae.”

“I promise to come back,” she says, “I’d walk all the way back here if I had to, just to see you again. It sucks that I couldn’t have met you earlier, because I like you, Shuuichi.  I really, really like you, and I don’t think I’m just pining over something I can’t have.  And that sucks even worse, because I--!”

“Sanae from Class 1-B.”

Her voices freezes in her throat.  She loses her train of thought completely.  “How do you know that?”

“I’ve heard the story,” he says, “Sanae from Class 1-B.  You went to school in Nagano.  You went missing last spring.”

“Stop,” she tells him, frightened, taking a step back.  She never thought Shuuichi would use that name.

“There are still people who remember you.”

She shakes her head.  

“How much of the story is true?”

“Which one?”

Shuuichi gives a frustrate sigh.  “That’s what you meant that day when you talked about your parents.  So you’re going to disappear again?”

“I’d rather stay.”  Sanae takes another step towards the door.  She wants to be disappointed that he doesn’t stop her, but in his eyes is a sad understanding.  There’s so much she wants to ask him, like how it is he always makes her feel like she’s come home, but she knows she doesn’t deserve it when she won’t tell him anything.

“I’ll be waiting,” he says, looking into her eyes.  He makes a promise.  “I won’t forget.”

She desperately wants to believe him.

With one last look at Shuuichi Minamino--eyes green as Eientei, fiery red hair that smells of roses, a gentle face--Sanae walks out of the store, turns to the mountains, and calls up the wind.  Nobody outside seems to notice; they’re looking away, because she doesn’t belong there and never really has.  As her feet lift off of the pavement, she thinks she hears crying.

The wind is crying.

It’s strange, because she’s never known Kanako to cry, and she’s certainly never heard it before.  With newfound urgency, she flies even faster back to Gensokyo, fearing the worst.

*

Sanae hesitates a moment too long when she puts her hand on the screen door at the Hakurei Shrine, and stumbles back when the door opens and Reimu’s unsmiling face meets her shocked eyes.  “You’re back,” she says in place of a greeting, sounding as tense as she looks, “Come inside.  We need to talk.”

She hears rustling in the trees overhead, and Kanako suddenly manifests behind her.  When the delicate fabric of Gensokyo’s reality tears itself open a few feet away and the demon of the boundary, too, arrives at their meeting, Sanae becomes truly concerned.

“Moriya shrine maiden,” she greets with a tilt of her head, her fan obscuring the lower half of her face.  Sanae has always felt uneasy around Yukari and has never quite understood how Reimu is so comfortable around her.  “Glad you've returned from your, ah, vacation.”

Sanae glances over at Reimu, who simply shrugs.  She’s not sure why she was expecting any privacy, considering there really aren’t any secrets where Yukari is concerned.  “The safety of Gensokyo is more important than anything else I have going on,” she says.

Yukari’s eyes narrow just a bit.

“Kanako told me,” she urges, “That something is happening.”

Reimu shifts her weight uneasily between her feet.  “Let’s not talk out here,” she says suddenly, and gestures for everyone to come inside.  Sanae frowns but follows, impatient to know what the trouble is.  Yukari and Kanako linger in the doorway.

“You know,” the boundary demon says, glancing through her lashes at the god beside her, “I’ve been hearing the strangest things lately.  It seems whenever I come by, the wind is saying something.  Would you know anything about that?”

“It’s not me, if that’s what you’re asking,” Kanako says curtly, “I prefer saying things in person.”

“So where has all this chatter on the breeze been coming from?”

“If I had to guess, it’s probably an echo,” she looks at her shrine maiden, still so young and naïve, “of all of the feelings and words inside of her that she hasn’t let out.”

“Ah.”  Yukari looks up at the sky as a breeze rustles the leaves overhead.  “Then this, too.  It sounds almost as if the wind is crying.”  She glances at Kanako once again, frown deepening.  “Are you sure you want to let her help with this incident?”

“I’m sure.”  The god of the sky closes her eyes and smiles sadly, knowingly.  “It's better this way.  The wind is strongest when it cries.”

*

Somewhere, in a city in the outside world, a very unusual boy stands in front of the flower shop, staring up at the gray, cloudy sky and straining his ears to hear something.  The people who pass him keep going on their way, convincing themselves that it’s just their imaginations, but he knows what he heard.  Something distant and sad, rolling over the mountains, almost as if the wind itself is crying.

For some reason, it reminds him of someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of many vanishings of Sanae Kochiya.
> 
> I'll be back with another after finals.


End file.
